


Low Battery Mode

by Spockykins



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (kiinda), Crack, Domestic Fluff, Drunkenness, Fluff, Low Battery, M/M, Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Pre-Relationship, Roommates, Sumo is my best friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 12:40:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15073355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spockykins/pseuds/Spockykins
Summary: Normally Hank was the one who ended up passed out drunk on the kitchen floor. This time, the roles were reversed. But Connor can't get drunk..?





	Low Battery Mode

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a thought by theeldritchguardian.tumblr.com  
> What if Androids needed to charge?

There was a thump as something hit the floor in the kitchen. 

Hank looked up from where he sat on his sofa, Sumo’s massive head covering his lap. It was late, he and Connor had solved a homicide earlier that day. Instead of heading to the bar, as Hank normally would under any possible circumstance, he’d returned to his home with the android. 

After the deviants had been granted their freedoms, there had been a serious increase in homelessness and unemployment for both androids and humans. Thankfully, Connor already had a job. And since Hank was the most charitable partner of all time, he’d let Connor move in with him. 

Having an android as a roommate was pretty easy, since they didn’t sleep or eat or anything. However, Connor loved to try and control Hank’s drinking, eating, and sleeping habits. Now that he was deviant, he couldn’t use “his programming” as an excuse for his nagging. 

Hank gazed into the kitchen, stomach churning unpleasantly from nerves. The lights were still on, and he was pretty positive that Connor was just in there. He might have had a few drinks upon arriving home, but he definitely wasn’t drunk. 

“Connor?” Upon hearing his owner’s voice, Sumo woke up and gazed languidly at his owner. 

Hank pet the Saint Bernard’s head and rose, stretching out his limbs. He heard a few joints crack, which showed his old age but also felt rather revitalising. The dog let out a snort at his sleep being disturbed. Sumo rested his head on the warm couch cushion that Hank was just seated on and promptly fell asleep.

“I’m starting to think that I’m more of a guard dog than you, ya lazy mutt.” Hank grumbled affectionately, running his fingers through the dog’s fur once more before heading towards the kitchen. 

He looked around for a second, trying to see if anything was broken. If Connor knocked something over on accident while messing around in the kitchen, then he was becoming more human by the day. A silly mistake like that was pretty hard to come by, for him. 

But no, nothing was broken. Finally, Hank’s gaze landed on Connor. Who was laying face first on the ground, mumbling something. 

“Connor!” The lieutenant rushed to his side to make sure he wasn’t dead, which honestly wasn’t a dramatic reaction. Connor used to have a serious habit of dying. Like, Hank would be in the other room, talking to some police officer, and Connor would have had his “heart” ripped out. Or Connor would jump in front of bullets. It happened so often that Hank started to wonder if he liked dying or something. 

Connor, currently, wasn’t dead. Thank god. Hank really didn’t have the money to pay to have him repaired right now.

“Connor, what the hell are you doing?” Hank’s heart did a weird twist. Nerves, again, but amplified. He was really fucking worried. 

Connor responded with yet another intelligent mumble, reaching a weak hand to touch the human’s knee. He tapped it a couple of times, but made no other move to get up. 

Hank flipped him over and cradled his lax figure in his lap. He tapped the side of the android’s face a few times, mirroring when Hank was unconscious on this very floor, where Connor slapped him across the face. 

Connor stared up at Hank, blinking a few times tiredly. “Hi Lieutenant…” He mumbled, reaching up to touch his face. He didn’t quite reach, not due to distance, but because of Connor’s energy level. “Soft…” 

Hank flushed a little at whatever _that_ nonsense meant, but chose to ignore it. 

“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you drunk or something?” Before Connor could answer, (not like he was going to, but still), Hank noticed the little LED ring on Connor’s temple. Instead of it’s usual rhythm or colour, it was pulsing a steady, dull red. “Is your… battery dying? Is that possible?” 

Connor nodded affirmation, shutting his eyes. “Yeah, didn’t charge…” His gaze left Hank’s and landed on something behind him. “Oh boy… here it comes.” 

Hank turned around quickly, positive they were being attacked or something. It was Sumo, awake for the action. He walked to Connor, tail wagging and thumping against cabinets as he approached. His massive tongue licked Connor’s cheek, eliciting a giggle from the battery-dead android. 

“Sumo is the best, I love ‘im…” Connor went lax in Hank’s lap again. 

Well, that was a bad thing. Hank didn’t know how the hell to charge him. So… another slap, he supposed. 

Connor’s eyes opened, focusing on Hank’s face. 

“I’m Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife.” Connor said, tone serious. But his face was contorted into something that looked like he was trying not to smile. 

“That wasn’t even what you’d say, moron…” Hank grumbled. “I need you to focus, for one second.” 

Connor still had a dumb grin on his face, but he at least looked like he was listening. “O’ course, Lieutenant Anderson.”

Hank ran a hand through his own greasy hair, sighing in mild frustration. “How the hell do I charge you, or whatever?”

Connor blinked a few times, trying to process what he said. “There’s the thingy over there…” He pointed towards the living room rather ambiguously. “Just gotta be near it and it’s gotta be plugged in, then I’m all good. Like… sleep kinda…” Connor snorted at something that both wasn’t funny and didn’t make sense, but Hank was a little too worried about his friend to care. 

Hank lifted him with some difficulty; that fucker was heavy. His sobriety made it much easier to manage. Maybe there _were_ some pros to being sober. 

“Shit, Connor, you weigh way too much.” Hank complained, mostly just to try to keep Connor awake and talking in case the “thingy” wasn’t obvious.

Connor snorted and shook his head, grabbing onto the soft fabric of Hank’s tee-shirt. “No… I weigh the right amount… I’ve got a bunch of metal and stuff for bones.”

Hank chose to ignore him.

Sumo whined, concerned for the only other person in his life. He followed Hank out of the kitchen which lead to more nonsense rambling by Connor. 

“Oh, the best dog in the whole world… So soft and kind… but also very big and strong.” He trailed off, head falling back lifelessly. He seemed to be unconcerned over whatever battery power issue he was having, so Hank decided to believe Connor didn’t just drop dead on him. That annoying feeling of anxiety was still in his gut.

He found the “thingy” that Connor had mentioned. It looked like a torture device, honestly. It was a thick, smooth, plastic mat. It’d clearly been there for a while, based on the indent in the carpet, which meant that Hank was a shitty detective and didn’t notice things. In his defense, it was black and blended in. The charger had some cords sticking out of it, all equipped with plastic points, which appeared to be covered needles. 

Hank wasn’t entirely sure, scratch that, _at all_ sure, how this thing worked. So he decided to just… sit Connor down on top of it and hope it worked. 

Which it did, thank god. The wires rose once Connor’s lifeless body was rested on it, the black plastic pulling back to reveal, Hank guessed it, needles. They pierced a few spots on his arms and one spot on his neck. Apparently if a low battery android was near it, the mat had a sensor, or something. 

Connor didn’t flinch. His face was lifeless and peaceful, the normal tenseness and worry in his face and shoulders wiped away. 

Hank looked at the “sleeping” android for a little too long, snorting and messing up his hair. He rose, the spot he’d just occupied once again being occupied by Sumo. The dog rested his head on Connor’s lap, shutting his eyes and falling asleep in record time. 

Hank definitely didn’t smile at the image, walking towards the hallway that lead to his room. 

“Night, moron.” 

He flicked out the light.


End file.
